Thursday has always been my favorite day of the week. About a decade ago, I incorporated a new phrase in my vocabulary: Friday’s Eve. That’s how I refer to it. I’ve had friends not know what I mean or understand what I’m saying. They may even correct me on the day of the week. I know what I’m doing. Trust me. It’s my way of putting a positive spin to the weekend.

I wish people that. It’s different. It makes you really think about what Thursday is. For me, the weekend when I was in college started on a Thursday. The best TV programming was on a Thursday, but NBC couldn’t leave a good formula alone. Why mess with perfection?

I enjoyed the possibility of sleeping late when my babies (my children got older.) I remember watching Saturday morning cartoons at 11 a.m. and then that turned to movies. I remember, I’ll get up now to catch movie matinees especially the dollar ones. How can you beat that? The price is right. My teen makes fun of my weird selections especially when I chose a foreign film. She complains if we pick a Little Theatre foreign film selection bcause she doesn’t want to read the movie subtitles.

I never knew the power of a phrase. I work hard during the week. I cook, do at least two loads of laundry a day, write articles, stories, columns, newspaper columns, plays, and occassionally a book, teach a class, return phone calls, tke care of children and puppies, check e-mail messages, send tweets or internet messages, etc. That’s for starters.

When I approach Wednesday night (a Hump Day), I get new pep in my step. My energy level rises and I can hold on because it’s Friday Eve not just Thursday. I’m tired but I hate double cleaning. But I half to do that, too. I also hate dealing with people who argue because they like the sound of their own voice. Like that guy in the blue carThat’s too small for him who comes down a one-way street, but is yelling at me. I’m giving you the stink eye for a reason. Hello??

Today, I met up with people who weren’t taught right. They forget their manners and don’t know how to act. Then I’m thankful for the “angels” in my life who always have my back. I love seeing them on a Friday’s Eve. I could definitely use more help.

About four more hours left of Friday’s Eve. Yeah, that’s working for me.

I know that I have much to learn when working with moms-to-be in the gym setting.

What about my experience as a trainer? Because I have never been pregnant, does that make me unqualified to be training pregnant women? This brought a fresh prospective to my attention and as with any new idea, it’s what one does with that knowledge that helps them learn and grow.

First, I want to say that although a pregnant body is different from a non-pregnant body – the body is the body. The muscles, ligaments, bones are still the same. Hormone fluctuations are creating differences to accommodate that wonderful being growing inside!

What makes me fit to train women is that I’m extremelypassionate about helping them remain or grow stronger before, during, and after pregnancy. Without passion, another trainer would not care-to-know about the physiological changes that occur within the female body enabling them to create safe, effective, fun workouts throughout the trimesters. Nor would they work so hard to build their knowledge base to keep you safe and prevent harm. I care. Training sessions with me are not only strength based. A pregnancy workout looks at the whole picture; from breathing techniques, proper stretching, kegel work, core strength, and mobility. Together, these things prepare women for the main event, birth! A stronger body & mind manages all stress better.

Nonetheless, I never considered this point of view before.You’re right, I don’t know how it feels to be pregnant. And I need women speaking up so that I do know. This makes me more aware of my target audience and their needs as future mommas. It helps me ask better questions, research more, and listen more intently.

At Memorial AME Zion Church, I’m known as Peyton and Hollis’s mom. I’ve been called the lady with the two last names, (they aren’t so little anymore) the one with the two little girls, and I was the lady who wrote for the Challenger newspaper. As our church parking lot got repaved, I discovered yet a new Marsha moniker.

I was going to park my car at Memorial. The night before I got a call informing me that I’d have to park my car on the grass at church. I was okay with that. My class leader wanted me to know. So, my cane was in my car and I was prepared (at least I thought) for whatever went my way.

Eddie Williams was going to park my car. I was following his turn signal and parking directions. I was going to ask him if I could be closer to the building, but he immediately saw my handicap sticker in the window and offered to help me to the church’s front door. This lady was taking him up on his offer.

When another car arrived, I got my cane out and was prepared to make the trip alone; he wouldn’t here of it. He parked the other car and told me not to move. He approached my weaker side, took my arm, and we strolled to the church’s front door.

“Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to.” I didn’t want him to think that I was helpless.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime,” he said.
Memorial has so many members now, I thought. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him. Iwas slightly embarrassed. I have been going there for 20 years. My daughters were christened there and I officially became a member last year. Then I decided to introduce myself,. “Hi. I’m Marsha Jones. Nice to meet you.”

Without even blinking an eye, his reply was,”I know your face. I can’t remember your name, but I know you are the lady who writes for that paper.”I was flabbergasted. “I thought he was going to say that he remembers me from our church directory. It seems my writing was catching up to me.” His answer made me laugh. I liked my new moniker now.

I still think that people don’t read my blog and I was proven wrong, again. This time I learned. As we walked on the church’s grass, headed towards the paved path, Eddie Williams gave me hope that people still read for news, information, and entertainment. I have wanted to be a writer since ninth grade. I carved out a different career path to get there, but I got there.

Now, I have expanded my writing. I have my blogs, my novels, my plays, all my years of work with the black press and my freelance writing. It took my children a while to put the pieces, but the voyage was worth it.

The lady in the newspaper. I smiled just thinking about it. I really liked that name. The new moniker was worth it because it came from somebody who didn’t know me, but respected my work. As a thank you, my blog is dedicated to you and your kindness. I made a new friend today and please keep (you and other supporters) keep following my blog on Thursdays. It means a lot. Writing will always be a big part of my life. I just love it.

On September 9 at 9:30 a.m. Rochester will hold it’s first Tunnel to Towers 5K at Genesee Valley Park.

The Tunnel to Towers 5K is held in memory of Stephen Siller – a New York City Fire Department firefighter who heroically died on September 11, 2001.

Siller was off-duty when the first plane hit the World Trade Center, but he he quickly jumped into his own vehicle and raced towards the site.

When he got to the Battery Park Tunnel it was already closed to traffic so Siller, 34, put on his 60 lbs. firefighter gear and ran by foot the three miles to the Twin Towers.

Amazing.

If that doesn’t inspire you to run in a 5K I don’t know what would?

I plan to make the Tunnel to Towers 5K in Rochester my first 5K ever.

Funds raised from the races – which were held in 30 American cities last year – go to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. The foundation supports the special needs of first responders, burn centers, orphans, and severely wounded veterans. The Rochester race will specifically help the Warrior Salute project.

This post is dedicated to Juliana LaMonica, beloved daughter of my dear friends Mike and Christine LaMonica, of Honeoye Falls/formerly Brockport, who passed away of childhood cancer on July 5, 2010. Beautiful Juliana is one of five upstate New York children on the National Angel Quilt.

The Olympics are almost over and I never got to see any of the race walking. Yeah those people may look silly…Until they happen to “walk” right past you in a 5k that you’re running! Not that it’s ever happened to me before or anything…

Here’s a really simple and fun treat that you and your kids can snack on while enjoying the closing ceremonies together.

Olympic Ring Cupcakes

All it takes is 5 cupcakes and some M&Ms or candy of your choice.

I saw some different versions of this treat where they used fresh fruit like strawberries and blackberries. We didn’t have any fruit like that around our house…but we did have 2 bags of M&Ms!!

While we were making these cupcakes I was able to teach the kids about the history of the Olympics and the rings…not to mention all the candy I was able to eat while no one was looking The only problem was that there wasn’t any black M&Ms in the bags so we made the black ring into a brown one. They didn’t seem to mind much while they were chowing these babies down!

It’s that time of year. I can’t believe that next week, we’ll be halfway through August and in 30 days, it’ll be time for school. My daughters are starting early and are practicing how to move when the alarm blares in the morning. For the record, our alarm doesn’t alarm. It makes a large screeching sound. I am the type of mom who has to find it immediately before I throw it on the floor, turn it off, and then I can fall back to sleep. Right now, one child is sleeping through it. I don’t know how. I wish I could.

My day starts at five in the morning. My children are not early risers. To say they aren’t morning people would be an understatement. They wake up under protest. I still have to shake them or pull covers off for them to rise. They know I have other tricks up my sleeve. And they don’t want me to pull those out yet, but I will if I have to. My teen’s bus arrives at 6:45 a.m. and my teen now has a new bus schedule for a new school. It arrives at seven. I can tell I’m going to cry. Both girls out of the house by seven. (Imagine me doing a happy dance.) However with two puppies in the house, guess what I’ll be doing now? It won’t be writing or going back to sleep.

My tween has yet to turn off her alam and this is Day 4 of practice. I have let the alarm ring for an hour and she still sleeps. What if we had an emergency or a fire? If I have to turn it off: watch out. She knows she’s in trouble. My tween has slept too long. I’m baffled how she can sleep through it. That’s why we have to practice early.

My teen used to be like her. Not anymore. Clothes are set out the night before. When my teen realized that if she goes off to college, I won’t be at school with her doing all of this stuff. She would have to do it herself. Then her room started getting neater. A greater appreciation for Mom started and why I do what I do.

I’m looking forward to the girls going back to school for a very selfish reason. They had their time; now it’s my turn. Now, I get my break. I didn’t have a vacation. I got to supervise house repairs and renovations. A part of me feels robbed. I really don’t know how I was able to do what I do when I was outside of the house. I was a great multi-tasker and volunteered in my kids schools. That part of my life is kind of gone. Oh, I know they still need me, but the type of capacity has changed. Yes, they are growing up.

My past is catching up with me. That is actually a good thing. lolol. I recently received an e-mail from my high school field hockey teammate. She was going to be in this area for the first time in 30 some odd- years and wanted to catch up with me. I was really scratching my head trying to figure out why. The last time I saw her: she was a junior and I was a senior and co-captain of the team heading to Purdue.

I mean, we were friends in high school. Not best or close friends, but we got along. But mostly teammates. She lived across the street in Turk Hill Estates, a housing complex, and we carpooled with each other to and from field hockey practices and games. Susan Spencer was one of the best half backs on our team. We made it to sectionals that year before the infamous Hilton game.

My daughters have heard about this game. I can’t tell them much. All I can remember is that is the game I got really hurt. I passed out and our goalie caught me in her arms to prevent me from hitting my head on the ground. No teeth were broken , but my lips were cut up real bad. I also remember seeing the blood. I was knocked out cold and have no memory of how I made it back home. Let alone how I made it to sideline. Today, Susan was going to fill in the missing pieces for me.

My ‘tween announced her car’s arrival in the driveway. “Mom, she’s here!” Peyton was running around the house worried about her hair. I was putting Hercules and Zeus away because I didn’t know how the dogs would react to someone new in the house. I was about to find out.

I could see her from the front door. She looked the same except for gray strands.I could always pick her out of a lineup. I just gave her a great big hug and welcomed her in. It was nice seeing a friendly face from the past. We started catching up on other people, the new captains after I graduated, our field hockey playing days and a FB reference by my friend, Joe Chromy trying to find out about my injury from that event, what we do now, and she got to meet one of my girls.

She was shocked that I really did grow up to be a writer and I have a few published books. My new one, Pin Pals is due November 1st. It’s my third book. “That’s what you always wanted to do, ” she finished. I took a different path to get there, but I got there. And then, she said: ” I have good memories of you from high school and I wanted to see you when I got back in the area..” I was humbled.

So I asked, why? Susan saw a part of me that some people didn’t see. Frankly, I don’t care if they see it or not. Fairport High School had over 700 kids the year I graduated in 1980. I was the only black girl that graduated in the class. Some of my friends ask how I did it. They couldn’t do it. That was the difference between me and them. I did it. It wasn’t a black and white issue. I knew what I wanted and worked really hard to make that happen. I stayed really close to people who mattered to me. Then I distanced myself from those people who just didn’t get it. I refused to live up to their stereotypes.

The next hour and a half, we remembered our chorus teacher and the record we made. The infamous field hockey pyramid picture, fashion plate and teammate Angela Isneria, who lived by us, running the perimeters, long corners, and how we got teased by the boys cross country and football teams. We vowed : we’d do this again. While you couldn’t pay me enough money to go back to high school to take Regents tests, you could to just go down Memory Lane. Susan, thank you. I didn’t realize how far I’ve come. I survived Jeff Fitzsimmons teasing, and the hockey scars healed. Where they were Joe Chromy, I may tell you when I’m 60. I won’t care by then. However, you are buying.

As I continually meet men and women, mostly women, at networking events and friends of friends I learn just how important it is to have a well rounded group of professionals to refer to or call upon in a moments notice. Not only professionally, but personally as well.

What do I mean? Personally, my close friend Rachel is a collegiate athletic trainer and sometimes I need her opinion on boyfriend issues and then “what do you think this clicking noise means”?

Professionally, I’ve begun surrounding myself with other powerful, goal oriented women who are blazing their own fiery trail here in Rochester. It feels oh-so-good to be able to call someone to bounce ideas off them or ask their opinion expecting to get an honest, no bull answer.

Bobbi who owns Body Work by Bobbi is a pregnancy massage therapist who is a trusted colleague and client of mine. She’s the person I know I can turn to when I have a professional dilemma or achievement and will not only congratulate me but ask me how I can keep thriving and growing. Yes. Keep forging ahead.

Diversity. It’s fabulous!

So…..do you see a doctor for a yearly check up?

Do you see a massage therapist on a weekly/monthly basis?

Do you workout regularly?

Do you get acupuncture?

See a chiropractor?

Do you do yoga?

What I’m getting at is that every human being on the face of the planet craves diversity. And if your mind doesn’t, your body does.

We all get stagnant. Stuck in the same routine.

So break out! And enjoy the body that serves you day after day.

The reason for having a diversified health ‘posse’? Let’s see. You go to work, watch kids, run, golf, workout, bike and your body takes a beating. Massage helps the body heal, relax, and reset. Working out makes you stronger, more in tune with your body, so that you can with stand pretty much anything life has to thrown at you (physically & mentally). A chiropractor can relieve stress. Yoga strengthens your body & mind by breathing and focus. All these things are not only great for your body, but for your mind too. You can’t function properly with a clogged mind. These things help with that. You are able to make better decisions, think more clearly.

And you feel AWESOME! More energy, more positivity.

So think about your health ‘posse’ – who’s there, who shouldn’t be there (people that bring you down), and where do you need to fill in the gaps. Future you will thank Present you, that’s for certain!

Getting this started: Welcome and thank you for supporting the 4-1-1. This blog will be here on Monday afternoons after 1 p.m., with what’s happening news, profiles, and information- wise in Rochester. Enjoy!

Jazz: The Spirit of The Moment by Jim Allen will be on exhibit until September 10, at the Link Gallery, City Hall, paying homage to the men and women who represent a great body of work from the 50s to the 60s of powerful and distiniguished jazz musicians like George Benson, Kenny Burrell, Johnny Griffin, Dr. Lonnie Liston Smith, Dexter Gordon, and others who performed at the Phythodd Club in Rochester. His work also is in the the private collections of the George Eastman House and saxophonist David Sanborn, photographer Harman Leonard, drummer Roy McCurdy, and Bruce Lundual of Blue Note Records.

Allen is a retired educator for the Rochester City School District. He graduated from SUNY College at Brockport and the University of Buffalo as a Distinguished Rockefeller Fellow. After retiring from Brockport, he began his second career in photography. The public is welcome to visit his work. For more information, call Ginna Moseson, 325.6669.

Contributors

For more than two decades, Kristine Bruneau has made a career from writing and marketing communications, working for ad agencies, nonprofits, and small businesses. Her commentaries, stories, and reviews have appeared in a variety of publications, including Rochester Magazine and Rochester Woman Magazine. She posts regularly to her Mommy Musings blog at kristinebruneau.com where she explores lessons learned from her son on motherhood, love, and life. Kris is currently working on a book inspired by these lessons and their resulting conundrums. She loves comments and feedback, so send her a note at kristinebruneau@me.com.

is an award-winning communications professional with 25 years experience working in journalism and public relations and with social media. She is also a comedian and has learned that weaving humor into all situations makes communication and life more enjoyable for all involved. She is an adjunct college professor and recently started her own company, Dresden Public Relations, to enable her to be a more-present mom for her two young daughters. One is adopted, one has cerebral palsy, both are beautiful and extraordinary, and life at her house is a fabulous adventure.

Claire Goverts is a working mom to a curious toddler girl on the go. A Buffalo to Rochester transplant, Claire enjoys exploring more of the area, which suits toddler fine. The zoo is a current favorite. She enjoys trying new things with daughter, including crafting ‘new’ play items. Such as coffee can turned drum, container, and mirror. She also shares a love of nature and the outdoors with her daughter.

And in her spare time Claire enjoys creative pursuits. Be in drawing, photography, jewelry making, and of course writing. She would like to publish novels one day, and has several National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) wins under her belt.

Tree Marino is a 30-something mother of tween/teen daughters. She works full time, while her husband stays home with the girls. This was not always the case. When the girls were younger she was a stay-at-home mom (who rarely stayed at home). Tree works toward making her family more green without ruffling to many feathers (inside the family and out). You might find her planning a casual event for her daughters' school or running her small business.

is a busy single mom of two busy boys from Brockport - Brice, 7, and Brady Patrick, 4. A graduate of the University of Rochester, she writes freelance articles and The Brockport Blog for The Democrat and Chronicle. She is also a contributing writer to Rochester Woman Magazine and a former reporter for Messenger Post Newspapers. Caurie enjoys being a hockey mom, photography, swimming, and life guarding at the YMCA. Look to her Mom Blog for pieces on parenting a child with special needs and parenting as a single mom. You can reach her at www.caurie.com or caurie@urgrad.rochester.edu

Debra Ross is publisher of KidsOutAndAbout.com, an online resource for parents who want to know about the cultural, educational, and recreational opportunities for kids in their local area.

She is a weekly guest on two morning radio shows in Rochester, WARM 101.3 and Fickle 93.3 and also appears often on local television. She and her husband, David Ross, a professor at RIT, home school their daughters Madison, 13, and Ella, 11. They live in Brighton.